


Summerpornathon 2011

by tracy7307



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Butt Plugs, F/M, Food Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pegging, Public Sex, Reincarnation, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracy7307/pseuds/tracy7307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six ficlets written for .  Heed content warnings at the beginning of each ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summerpornathon 2011

**Title** Lecture Notes  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Content labels** sex toy usage (butt plug), public sex  
 **Word Count** 747  
 **Summary** Arthur accuses Merlin of being too vanilla. Merlin proves him wrong.  
 **Author’s Note** This was entry #18 for Challenge 1 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/)

  
In the expansive lecture hall, Merlin appears to be another mildly bored student in the back row, chin resting against his fist. His attention is focused on the lecturer’s drone and the white rectangle of light from the overhead projector. His skinny jean-clad legs stretch out in front of him, and the fluorescent lights reflect dimly in his glasses.

No one realizes, though, that hidden beneath his desktop, clutched in Merlin’s right hand, is the remote control to the vibrating butt plug that’s currently lodged up Arthur’s arse.

Arthur’s hole stretches around the slicked object. He fights to focus on the lecturer’s words. His knuckles turn white against the pen when he shifts, trying to gain some sort of relief. Through the haze of want seizing his body, he recalls last evening. _You’re so vanilla_ , Arthur teased, sated and loose after Merlin had fucked him slow and sweet then curled around him like a kitten. _So tender, Merlin. Not a kinky bone in your body._

The gleam of a challenge glinted in Merlin’s eyes. _Oh I think I could surprise you._

That morning, when Merlin pulled the plug from its plastic case and asked if it was okay, Arthur flushed and nodded. His chest flared when Merlin kissed his neck while he inserted it, whispering softly against his heated skin.

In the hall, Arthur’s dick presses heavily against the fly of his jeans, achingly hard from the plug’s delicious pressure. He draws a deep breath, slow and steady, exhaling through his nose and even manages to jot a few notes.

Just when he thinks he’s won a small victory, Merlin presses the remote’s button.

Everything is white hot pleasure and Arthur closes his eyes, biting his bottom lip. A short “hnn” escapes his mouth and he tries so hard to hold still – tries not to make a spectacle of himself, but he can’t help but squirm against the pressure. He wants to beg Merlin to touch him, to fuck him and end the torment.

Sweat beads at Arthur’s hairline, and his skin flushes in splotches. He pants softly through his nose, attempting to master his desire.

When Arthur opens his eyes again, Merlin’s looking at him. Wordlessly he stands and walks toward the door. Arthur follows him into the hallway and when they turn into the men’s room, the plug vibrates again, sharp pleasure against his prostate.

“Fuck,” Arthur mutters quietly.

Merlin pushes a stall door open and Arthur ducks under his arm. As soon as the lock’s clicked shut, Merlin shoves Arthur back against the stall, kissing him, messy and desperate. Arthur ruts against his leg and Merlin breaks the kiss, a wet sound as he pulls off.

“So good today,” Merlin pants against Arthur’s lips. His hand slides over the curve of Arthur’s arse.

“Please,” Arthur’s voice is hoarse and wrecked. “Fuck me.”

Merlin shoves his jeans and boxers to his knees, doing the same to Arthur’s before turning him to face the wall. He kisses Arthur’s neck as he bends him over, one hand smoothing down Arthur’s back and fondling the blunt end of the plug. He pulls it and pushes it, still slick from all the lube.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers.

“Say it,” Merlin breath is hot against Arthur’s ear.

“Need your cock.”

“God yes.” Merlin removes the plug. Arthur whimpers at the loss.

He hears the rip of the condom wrapper and a pause and Merlin rolls it on, and then _fuck_ , the sweet pressure of Merlin’s cock fills him up. The hard length slides easily in his lubed hole.

“Fuck.” Merlin places his hand on the wall and the other on Arthur’s hip. “So loose for me.” He snaps his hips, and Arthur’s head drops, holding on as Merlin starts to build a rhythm.

The wall shakes as Arthur braces and Merlin fucks him harder, his climax rolling quickly over him when Merlin grasps his cock. It only takes a few strokes before Arthur comes on the wall and the floor.

“Shit,” Merlin pants. His head drops between Arthur’s shoulder blades as he shudders with each wave of his orgasm. He wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist, staying that way for some time.

Eventually Merlin’s hands caress Arthur’s sides, up his ribs. One hand rests on his heart. “Still think I’m vanilla?” Merlin asks, slowly pulling out.

Arthur raises an eyebrow as he hikes up his jeans. “Well, you could have used a ball gag- Ouch! Is biting my arse _really_ necessary?"

**Title** Strawberries and Cream  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Gwen/Lancelot  
 **Content labels** brief food porn  
 **Word Count** 749  
 **Summary** Lance needs a break from his paperwork. Gwen supplies a distration.  
 **Author’s Note** This was my entry for Challenge 2 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/)

  
Seventeen years.

They’d spent nearly half of their lives together. Gwen teased Lancelot with every new grey hair in his beard. They’d fought side-by-side for Camelot, fought with Arthur when Gwen told him that she was leaving him for Lancelot and occasionally against each other over such little things as Lancelot’s boots lying in the middle of the floor.

These last few years they’d settled into comfortable routine, mastering everything from how to manage the other’s foul moods to what touches would elicit the most intimate of moans.

When Gwen walked into their bedchambers carrying a tray of fruit, he looked up from the parchments on the table and smiled, gladly setting down quill. “What’s all this?”

“Thought you might need a break,” she said, moving aside a few parchments and setting down the tray. “You’ve been at it all morning.”

“I could use a break,” he said, but his eyes were fixed on the curve of her hip under her thin dress.

“Forget about it for a while. Here. Have a slice of apple,” she handed it back without looking.

Instead of reaching for it, Lancelot’s hands circled her hips and he pulled her down forcefully to sit in his lap.

She gave a surprised yelp.

“The apple, please,” he said with one hand on her hip, the other caressing her thigh.

Gwen didn’t miss the darkening of his eyes. She held the apple slice to his lips, and when he moved to bite, she pulled it away.

“Tease,” he grinned, catching her wrist and taking a bite.

The juice clung to his lips and Gwen bent to kiss its sweetness.

As the kiss lengthened, she dipped her tongue in his mouth to chase the taste of the apple. Lancelot moaned greedily against her lips.

When Gwen squirmed against his erection, Lancelot growled and stood, keeping her pressed against his body as he shoved the parchments to the floor with one hand and cupped her breast with the other.

“Lance,” she whispered, breaking the kiss when his thumb slid across her nipple, peaked under her dress.

Gently, he guided her back onto the table, and when her brows knit together, he knew it meant _this is not our bed and this is not how we make love_.

He pushed her dress up, gently kissing one knee and tickling the sensitive skin behind her other. Gwen giggled helplessly, and he knew he’d calmed her nerves. He reached forward and plucked a strawberry from the tray, stealing a kiss.

His lips grazed the soft skin of her ankle as he pushed the dress up over her knees, strawberry clutched in his fingers. The skirt pooled at her waist and he touched the strawberry to the inside of her thigh, kissing its wet trail as he slid it up the heated skin.

The only sounds filling the room were her short gasps and his wet kisses as he tasted the line of water it left behind. When he reached the top of her thigh he glanced up at Gwen. Her eyes slid shut against the unfamiliar sensation.

When he paused, she touched her fingers to his - a reassurance.

Slowly, he touched the strawberry to the sensitive skin between her legs, sliding it along the slit, rubbing it around the bundle of nerves once before slipping it down again, letting it get fully coated in her juices.

He caught her gaze, brought the fruit to his mouth, licked it once, and bit into it.

“Gods,” she whispered, and then Lancelot’s mouth was on her, licking her open, tongue thrusting into her to taste her salty juices, sliding up to lap at her clit over and over. He palmed the bulge in his breeches as she writhed against his tongue, clutching his hair. Her toes curled and her body shook with release, her fluids coating his chin.

He scrambled onto the table, one hand holding her in her aftershocks and the other unlacing his breeches. She helped to shove them over his hips, youthful in her passion, and guided his cock into her wet heat. With her legs wrapped around his waist he thrust into her, so wet with her release. It only took a few thrusts before he came, clutching her as he rode out each wave of his orgasm.

Gwen carded her fingers through his hair, kissing his temple, holding him close. The strawberries, the table, and the papers on the floor: messy and perfect, just how it should be.

**Title** Tune in, Turn on  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Content labels** drug use, rough oral sex, gagging, come play  
 **Word Count** 750  
 **Summary** Arthur, a square senator's son, opens his mind with Merlin, a hippie at Haight-Ashbury.  
 **Author’s Note** This was my entry for Challenge 3 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/)

  
_It’ll open your mind,_ the stranger, _Merlin_ , Arthur reminded himself, had said a couple of hours ago, placing a square of paper on Arthur’s tongue.

Odd things were starting to happen at this party.

“Arthur Pendragon, the senator’s son,” Merlin said, his words sounding distorted and slow. He opened up a bottle of bubbles and drew out the wand. “Never thought I’d see the likes of you here.”

Lights flashed around Arthur: blue, yellow and tangerine. He wanted to pluck the colour from the air and hold it like fruit. “Curious to see what my father’s been rallying against.”

“Wouldn’t like his precious son at Haight-Ashbury with a bunch of dirty hippies, would he?” Merlin held the dripping bubble wand and blew.

“No.” Arthur watched as bubbles exploded into glitter.

“So square in your seersucker suit,” Merlin said, and suddenly Arthur felt every fibre of it against his skin, as if the cloth touched him with thousands of tiny hands.

“I’d like to take it off, I think,” Arthur said, looking up to Merlin, who leaned over him. “Tickles like butterfly wings everywhere.”

“Yeah, I can dig it,” Merlin laughed, “take it off then.”

As Arthur pulled off the jacket, his gaze traveled through the waves of Merlin’s hair where it curled, swirly and black, like an ocean at midnight. Arthur wanted to swim in it. He looked down to the milky skin of Merlin’s slender neck then up at blue eyes. Merlin looked like art. Arthur wished to be Botticelli, so that he could paint Merlin as if he were a myth come to life.

Out of all of that, all Arthur could manage was, “I want to paint you.”

Merlin giggled, helping to pull off Arthur’s shirt. “Better?”

“Much,” he said. Merlin’s head was framed by the flashing lights, and suddenly it was too much visual. He shut his eyes.

“Here,” Merlin said. Fabric covered Arthur’s eyes. The light filtered blue through the cloth – Merlin’s neckerchief.

“Is that okay?” Merlin’s breath poured hot over Arthur’s ear. Behind the neckerchief, Merlin’s words took shape in red waves.

“Yes,” Arthur breathed, his hand slipping up into Merlin’s thick hair. Merlin’s fingertips traced down his ribs and circled his bellybutton, playing in the course line of hair.

“Want me to help you out here, sugar?” Merlin smiled against his ear as the edge of the plastic bubble bottle slid down his erection.

Arthur heard a symphony playing as the plastic slid slowly up and down his dick. “Fuck yes.”

He moaned helplessly at the sensation of Merlin’s fingers working open his trousers and sliding them down his hips. Every touch seemed magnified a thousand-fold as Merlin stroked him.

“Well hell-ooo, beautiful,” Merlin cooed to his cock.

When Merlin’s tongue touched Arthur’s balls, he thanked god that he was blindfolded because the sound of Merlin’s tongue rasping over his pubic hair and the slick slide of it on the underside of his cock was too much sensation.

His body buzzed as Merlin took the head in his mouth and worked the first couple inches, the wet suck of it loud in Arthur’s ears. Blue and white colours swirled together behind Arthur’s eyelids. He panted into the air, hands fisted at his sides as Merlin worked down further, all lips and pressure around his dick.

Arthur muttered a curse and thrust up into that beautiful mouth. Merlin hummed around it, meeting his thrusts with his own deep, slow sucking. “God,” Arthur panted, twisting his fingers in those curls. “God, Merlin.”

Merlin lifted off Arthur’s cock and it slapped his cheek wetly. “Fuck my face.”

Arthur nearly came from those words alone.

Merlin guided Arthur’s cock back into his mouth. Behind the neckerchief Arthur saw a ballet, dancers leaping, spinning as he fucked up into that mouth, pulling back when Merlin gagged a bit. “It’s okay. I can take it,” Merlin said and swallowed Arthur’s cock again.

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hair and pulled his mouth down on his cock over and over, the symphony reaching a crescendo as he pulled out, coming in unseen spurts. A bit of it splashed warm onto his belly, some smeared across Merlin’s lips, and the rest Merlin sucked in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Arthur breathed as Merlin planted small kisses along the underside of his cock. “I think you might be a God,” he said, fingers blindly searching for then caressing Merlin’s jaw, thumb sliding through Merlin’s come-slicked lips.

Merlin kissed the pad of Arthur’s thumb. “Fuckin-A I am.”

**Title** All That You Need, All That You Are  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Content labels** minor character death  
 **Word Count** 748  
 **Summary** After Hunith's death, Arthur comforts Merlin.  
 **Author’s Note** This was my entry for Challenge 4 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/)

  
Hunith waited for Merlin’s first words for two years. Finally, one day, her baby with round blue eyes and stick-out ears pointed at a platter and said, “cheese.”

She laughed and handed him a chunk. It figured that the first time Merlin spoke to her, it would be about food.

* * *

Thirty years later, Hunith was dying. She’d said everything there was to say, and Merlin had as well.

After all the words, the last time Merlin spoke to Hunith, he said, “I promise to live my life every day to make you proud. I love you, mum.” He kissed both of her soft eyelids and her forehead.

She passed away that evening.

When Merlin returned to Camelot, Arthur held him close in their chambers. Merlin fisted his tunic and cried soul-shattering sobs against his chest. Arthur had never seen someone fall apart like this before – like the earth had been ripped from under their feet. Merlin clung to Arthur as if he were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

Arthur pressed his lips to Merlin’s neck, rubbing his hand over Merlin’s shaking shoulders. “Okay,” he whispered into Merlin’s mess of hair. “Okay.” He pulled Merlin onto his lap, his strong arms sheltering Merlin as he trembled.

Arthur wasn’t sure how long he held Merlin as he cried against his shoulder. The glow from the fire turned from yellow to orange to bright red. Arthur caressed his back and rocked him gently. Merlin’s sobs quieted and he calmed against Arthur’s neck.

When Merlin pulled back, Arthur felt a shock of cool air against his skin where Merlin’s warm tears and breath had heated it. Suddenly, Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, needy and urgent against Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur quickly broke away, hesitation overriding his urge to kiss back. “Merlin, are you certain?”

Merlin nodded and leaned in. Arthur held him back with one hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think this is the right time, love.”

“Arthur, please,” Merlin whispered against his lips, twisting to straddle his hips. “Please, I need this. Need to feel something else.”

Arthur inhaled sharply when Merlin’s arse slid over his groin. He touched his lips lightly to Merlin’s. “Are you certain?” he repeated. </textarea>

Merlin placed one hot, open-mouthed kiss to Arthur’s lips. “I need you, Arthur. Please.” He rolled his hips, grinding down on Arthur’s half-hard cock. “Please.”

Arthur reached for the back of Merlin’s neck, pulling him down and kissing up against his lips. If Merlin needed to feel something else, Arthur would make sure it was pleasure. He hooked one arm around Merlin’s waist, holding him flush against his body as he laid Merlin back against the furs.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against Merlin’s lips between kisses, “darling, I’ll take care of you.” His hand reached for Merlin’s breeches, unlacing them with shaking fingers.

Merlin moaned high and needy when Arthur’s fingers brushed over his erection which strained against his breeches, a damp spot darkening the fabric at the tip of his cock.

Arthur sat back on his heels to tug them down over Merlin’s hips and off his legs, throwing them down to the stone floor. Merlin lay beneath him with his chest and neck flushed and the tip of his cock dark pink with arousal. Clear fluid beaded at the tip.

Arthur kissed up the inside of Merlin’s thigh, his hair course against Arthur’s lips. He tongued the hard length of Merlin’s cock, pausing to lick up the bead of liquid at the tip before sliding his mouth over the head.

Merlin panted underneath him as pleasure washed away every other feeling written on Merlin’s face. Arthur wasted no time in teasing Merlin with teasing licks as he usually did, but opened his mouth, relaxed his throat, and sucked Merlin down to the hilt.

Merlin arched sharply off the bed, fingers scrabbling to grab Arthur’s hair. Arthur pressed Merlin’s hips to the bed and bobbed his head up and down and tongued Merlin’s cock as he sucked its length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Merlin chanted, balls drawn tight as Arthur swallowed him. His body stiffened as came down Arthur’s throat.

Arthur sucked Merlin as he shuddered through the orgasm. Only when Merlin touched his fingers to Arthur’s jaw did Arthur release his spent cock from his lips.

Merlin was already snoring by the time Arthur curled around him.

“Everything that was good in her is in you,” Arthur whispered against Merlin’s ear. “Sleep well, love.”

**Title** Memories and Java  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Arthur/Merlin  
 **Content labels** Reincarnation **Word Count** 749  
 **Summary** It's much more than sex in a coffee shop loo.  
 **Author’s Note** This was my entry for Challenge 5 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/)

  
“Arthur,” Morgana hisses, leaning over the coffee shop table. “Stop eyefucking that twink across the room and focus. Father wants us to have this issue resolved by next quarter.”

Arthur watches as the stranger stands, glances over his shoulder towards Arthur and walks back towards the loo. Morgana chucks a packet of Splenda at him, but he’s focused on the blue sphere design on the back of the man’s t-shirt and doesn’t even notice.

He follows the stranger through the crowd, past the hissing and the whirring sounds from behind the counter. The stranger splays his hand on the loo door, holding it open. Arthur steps in behind him. His blood thrums in his ears as he pulls the door closed. The sounds of chatter and shouting baristas are cut off.

Arthur clicks the lock.

The stranger’s pale skin looks effulgent in the fluorescent light, his unruly inky waves of hair curling around his ear. From behind thick black-framed glasses he looks Arthur over from head to toe. Arthur flushes.

He closes the distance in three steps, driven by something deep in his gut. He takes the man’s glasses off and places them on the paper towel dispenser. The stranger’s blue eyes fall to Arthur’s lips.

Arthur leans in and presses their lips together. The stranger inhales sharply. This is all too familiar; he remembers these same slick lips, begging, babbling filthy words, wrapped around his cock while looking up at him from under long, dark eyelashes. Arthur slides his tongue along the stranger’s lips and he moans when their tongues touch.

The hot line of the stranger’s erection presses against Arthur’s hip. He wastes no time in falling to his knees. He makes quick work of the zipper, pulling out the man’s dick and kissing its hard length. A memory flashes - this familiar cock bobbing in front of him, Arthur on his knees in the soft grass, hidden behind a wooden booth, sucking hungrily – the banner floating behind them reads “World Fair 1921”.

Arthur blinks the vision away and sucks, tonguing the cock as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs. Every vein and bump on his tongue feels familiar. The stranger touches his jaw and Arthur knows what this man wants.

The man’s cock slaps against Arthur’s chin when he pulls off. He turns around, hands flat against the wall, looks back over his shoulder and says quietly, “Fuck me, Arthur.”

“How do you know my name?” Arthur asks, standing. He feels the curve of the man’s little arse.

“I don’t know,” the stranger says. Arthur believes him.

He’d had an urge that morning to take a condom and lube packet along, shrugging off the fact that his day was chock-full of non-sexy activities. _Good thing that,_ he thought as he slides two lubed fingers into the man, who arches sharply from the wall.

Arthur has a vision of him wearing only a neckerchief, kneeling on a regal-looking bed, hands grasping the headboard, back curved and waiting for Arthur’s cock.

Arthur twists his fingers, stretching him open. He runs his hand up the man’s back, over smooth skin. “Beautiful, Merlin. So pretty for me like this,” the old words fall from Arthur’s lips.

“Stop talking and fuck me already,” Merlin smiles.

“As you wish, my sweet.” The response is centuries old. Arthur lines up his cock and sinks in slowly, surrounded by Merlin’s tight heat. He’s been waiting decades for this, so he thrusts fast and deep, reaching down for Merlin’s cock, stripping him quickly. Memories flood him: his lover, Merlin – a court sorcerer, the captain of a ship, a settler in America, a history professor.

Merlin’s panting as Arthur fucks him. “I’ve found you again,” he says, and shoots his release on the wall.

Arthur’s orgasm rolls over him and he fucks his way through it. “Took you long enough, idiot.” Arthur presses feather-light kisses to Merlin’s neck as he pulls out. “I remember dying in that car crash. How’d you go in the last life?”

“That drunk driver got you,” Merlin scowls, pulling paper towel to clean himself up. “I was thrown from the Tilt-A-Whirl at the amusement park. Shoddy belt or something.”

Arthur pulls Merlin close, hugging tightly. “Really, you need to be more careful this time around. I’d like to have a little longer this life, I think.”

“Me too, Arthur.”

If anyone noticed the two walking out of the loo hand-in-hand at Avalon Coffee that day, no one said a word.

**Title** Special Drawer  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Pairing** Gwaine/Elena  
 **Content labels** sex toy usage (strap-on)  
 **Word Count** 750  
 **Summary** Gwaine has a fucking AWESOME dream.  
 **Author’s Note** This was entry #48 for Challenge 7 of [](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/profile)[**summerpornathon**](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/). The challenge was **sleep**

  
The concert was fucking awesome, but this is even better.

Elena’s pink lips wrap around the head of his cock, slowly working down. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, her tongue adding a slick, glorious pressure to the underside of his dick. “Fuck, Elena,” he says to the tousled blonde hair below.

She pulls off with a pop and his cock slaps his skin wetly. “Didn’t he sound fantastic? God, when Paul started singing _Hey Jude_ I nearly cried!”

Gwaine smiles. Only Elena would stop mid-blowjob to squee.

“It was epic, baby,” he says, picking up his cock and stroking.

“Oh!” she snorts, all exuberant smiles. “Sorry hon.” He didn’t know fellatio could be charming, but there it is and suddenly _fuck_ that’s her lubed-up finger against his hole. “Okay?” she asks, her finger tracing his puckered skin.

“Yeah.”

She’s finger-fucked him before; he trusts her with this. Everything Elena does turns him on; she’s funny and awesome and she _gets_ him. Gwaine pushes down against the stretch of her two twisting fingers as she swallows his cock. “Jesus,” Gwaine pants.

Elena pulls off again and walks over to the dresser. His confusion at the interruption is overridden by the lovely round curve of her arse as she opens a drawer.

And pulls out a strap-on dildo.

“Want to give it a shot?” She asks, sheepishly cradling it to her breasts.

Gwaine’s legs fall open in response.

Elena smiles at this, big and bright; it reaches her eyes. Gwaine’s heart squeezes a bit.

After some snapping a tightening, a long, pink dildo juts proudly from Elena’s groin. She strokes it and climbs to the bed, crawling toward him on all fours with a glint in her blue-green eyes. “This is almost as good as the time you let me paint your toenails pink and purple.”

“But not nearly as good as the time when you gave me a mohawk.”

She leans to kiss him, still tasting like his pre-come. The jelly dildo pokes down against his stomach. “Ready?”

Gwaine hands her the lube. “Fuck me.”

“How should we-” she frowns. “Should you turn over? Should I lie on my side?”

“How about we stay just like this?” Gwaine suggests. He reaches behind his knees, pulling them back to his chest. He wants to watch her.

“All right,” she presses a kiss to his lips then kneels up, slicking up the pink dildo.

The rubber nudges against his hole and she sinks in a bit. The stretch is uncomfortable; Gwaine tries hard not to pull a face.

They both decide to get a better view and when he looks up, she looks down.

Their heads collide with a glorious thunk.

Elena snorts. “Ah, fuck, sorry babe.”

Gwaine laughs and traces her forehead. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Good thing we didn’t knock each other out eh?”

“That would be a sight for whoever finds us.”

“Could you imagine if it were Arthur and Merlin? The looks on their faces!” Elena’s head drops to Gwaine’s shoulder as she laughs.

“Arthur would yelp like a girl!” A tear of laughter slides down to Gwaine’s hair.

“Jesus, Gwaine. Only us. Let’s call this a wash, yeah?”

Gwaine’s body is so relaxed from laughing that Elena’s slid deeper inside.

She shifts her position to pull out of him. The dildo tilts up, grazes something deep inside of him and…

Oh. _Oh._ Gwaine moans, loud and long.

Everything snowballs from there. The air hangs heavy with sex as Gwaine pants and Elena thrusts, saying “fuck yeah, baby, you look so hot.”

Gwaine reaches down to stroke his cock, stripping it quickly. “More,” he whines, wrapping his legs around her waist, trying to pull her deeper. “Harder. Please.”

“You like this yeah?” She says as she pounds into him. “Like it when I fuck you like this? You like my cock inside of you?”

“Ah, Elena, fuck,” he moans, entire body freezing up as his balls tighten and he shoots his release across his chest.

Elena leans down, kissing him through each shudder. He works the harness, unsnapping, pulling the dildo off, reaching between her thighs. His fingers slide in her slick folds of skin.

“Gwaine,” she pants, riding his fingers. “Gwaine, Gwaine…” her voice trails off, fading.

***

“Gwaine!” He wakes. Elena’s shoving his shoulder, hair falling over half her face. “You were moaning. Bad dream?”

“Not bad. Not at all.” He pulls her to his chest. “Hey babe… want to break into the special drawer tonight?”


End file.
